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“Yah, how’d you get so good at making everything? Did you work at a part time jajangmyeon place too?” Woojin marveled as he slurped his noodles vigorously into his mouth, exhaling simultaneously to let out some of the piping hot steam. Gunwoo just chuckled, as he had the common sense and patience to let it cool down slightly.
“Don’t praise me too much, my mom is a café owner, I had better pick up a few things. Besides, you’re acting like you’ve never had jajangmyeon before.”
Woojin ignored his teasing, “Speaking of your mom, get those rolled omelets and kimchi she sent out of the fridge.” Gunwoo did as he was told, as Woojin continued to stuff his face. When he turned around, Gunwoo couldn’t help but smile at the sight- in the time it took him to turn his back from Woojin, he’d managed to get the black sauce all around his mouth and some on his cheek.
“Yah, are you a baby? Eat properly.”
“Stop nagging and eat before yours gets cold. There’s nothing worse than cold jajangmyeon.” Woojin quipped, adding kimchi to the black hole he called a mouth.
“Says the guy who just got stabbed almost to death.” Gunwoo said as he grabbed a napkin and wiped the corners of his face.
“I stand by what I said.” Woojin gestured to the chair opposite him at the tiny table in Mr. Oh’s kitchen. “Now eat, you know I hate eating alone.”
“Araso.” Gunwoo agreed cheerfully and dug into his food in equal vigor, giving himself a mental pat on the back about his cooking abilities. In that cozy beachfront, with the moonlight peering through windows as their only light, all the could be heard was the slurping and clinking of dishes between the two.
“Gunwoo-ah.”
“Hmm?”
“I’ve been meaning to ask you something for a while.” Very unlike Woojin, he hesitated and felt unsure of his next words. Gunwoo waited patiently. “What kind of things did you and Mr. Choi talk about when he interviewed you?” Gunwoo’s eyes widened in surprise at the inquiry. Woojin met his gaze pensively and sadly. “With him gone now…. I was just curious.”
They’d talked about the tragedy that had befallen them and their comrades multiple times in the 6 months since it occurred. Once they couldn’t stand to cry anymore, they channeled all their talks about their lost hyungs (and missing dongsang) into discussions of anger and revenge. This might have been the first time since they arrived at Mr. Oh’s that they’d spoken of the past in any sort of sentimental, comforting light.
“Honestly, I’m surprised I remember with how nervous I was.” He solemnly grinned. “He talked a lot about his upbringing; being brought up poor like me, what he was looking for in the person he was hiring. He asked me why I started boxing. I talked about my dad.” Woojin shook his head in understanding. During the many late nights they’d spent together, his father’s abusive nature has been featured numerous times. “He also said he’d done some checking up on me. He’d heard from other that even when times got tough, I never lost my goodness.”
Woojin scoffed. “You and your mom are such good people, it fucking sucks you had to become a fighter to defend the two of you.”
“Actually, my dad wasn’t the only reason I started boxing.”
“Hm? Why else?”
Gunwoo twirled his noodles around aimlessly. “Mmmm… I was bullied often in school.”
“Eh?” Woojin said in disbelief. “Why? Who?” Woojin had a look in his eye like he was going to take those names and hunt them down, even now. Gunwoo couldn’t stop his stomach from butterflying at the thought.
“Just because. You know how kids are.” Woojin did not accept such a vague answer and continued to stare at Gunwoo. Gunwoo played with his chopsticks. This was it. The last part of his soul he hadn’t bared to the man he considered one of the most important people in his life. He thought he never would-no- never could. But here he was, staring at him intently waiting for the truth they promised to always confide in one another, no matter the circumstance. Was he ready? Would he have the courage? But when he glanced back at the sincere face he’d grown to love more than his own, he knew he had to.
“Actually, I think it was because I was…” He thought of the word he’d heard his grandmother used to describe him once. “a little sweet as a kid.”
“Sweet? Kids can be pricks about people who are too kind, they feel like they can take advantage of them.” Gunwoo had to fight to keep his resolve, as protective and slightly clueless Woojin was one of his favorite Woojins.
“No, not sweet as in kind.” Gunwoo could feel the heat rise on the back of his neck. “Sweet as in… effeminate.” Gunwoo’s heart was pounding so hard in his chest that he was afraid he’d pass out. He didn’t dare look up at Woojin and kept his eyes transfixed on his barely full bowl.
“I wasn’t as manly as the other boys, I guess. I preferred to sit with the girls, play hopscotch, make crafts and braid hair rather than play with the boys. My dad came to the school once and saw me with the girls and he made a big scene. After that, the teacher made me go hang out with the boys and they’d often hit me and throw things at me. My dad didn’t really do anything about it, he said it’d make me tough. Whenever my mom tried to intervene about it, he’d beat her, so I just decided to hide it.
Eventually though, it got to be too much. The breaking point for me before I started getting stronger was during free period in the 8th grade. My classmates threw tampons at me telling me I was going to get my period soon. They only laughed harder when I cried.” Gunwoo gripped his chopsticks so hard at the memory that his knuckles turned white. “I decided that would never happen to me again. So, I started working out that day and I haven’t stopped since. I used to resent my body and my muscles because I felt like I shouldn’t have had to gain 10 kg of muscle to be considered ‘manly.’ In a way, I felt I was overcompensating for something I shouldn’t have to. But when I was able to protect my mom during their last fight before he left, or when I was praised for my skills in my unit, I didn’t hate it as much.” Gunwoo took a deep breath before baring his biggest secret. “Also, getting stronger made me more secure in admitting to myself that… that I liked boys. And that if anyone ever gave me crap for who I liked, I could kick their butts. Besides, it I hadn’t started getting stronger, I would have never started boxing, I never would have found my passion, and then… I never would have met you.”
There was a pause that felt like hours. The only sound he heard was the humming of the fridge and his own heart pounding in his ears. Woojin had yet to say anything. The silence was making his entire body tingle, and not in the good sense. Did he say too much? Was Woojin completely put off? Was this the end of the invincible Marine duo? The heat from embarrassment transformed into a cold sweat of terror.
Gunwoo mustered the courage to drag his eyes up to meet Woojin’s and his breathe caught in his throat. What he was met with was a stare so full of sincerity, empathy, and compassion that his body temper flip flopped once again to heat rising. Woojin’s eyes did not tell a story of pity or disgust, the one look Gunwoo feared most coming from the eyes he liked the most. They told a story of understanding, which made his own burn with brine threatening to fall.
Although Woojin bragged about how he was much better with words than Gunwoo, his real talent was showing his feelings with actions. Instead of responding with words, he picked up a piece of rolled omelet with his chopsticks and held it to Gunwoo’s lips.
“You can have the last one.” Gunwoo smiled through cloudy eyes and ate it gratefully. “Why didn’t you tell all this to me sooner, I’m offended.” Woojin pouted.
“We got close so fast and have been living together all these months, I didn’t want you to get uncomfortable around me if I told you.”
Woojin reach across swiftly and popped Gunwoo on the back of the head. Gunwoo yelped.
“What kind of asshole do you take me for, you punk? What type of person would that make me if I abandoned you just because you like boys? You think I’m that shallow? You think I’m that disloyal? Wah.”
Gunwoo bowed his head in contrition, but couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “mianhae hyung.”
“You better be.” Woojin sulked. “Nothing as small as preferring boys is going to split up the invincible marine duo. Araso?”
“Ne.”
“Say it properly!” Gunwoo saluted and shouted. “Ne!”
“Good job, now finish eating.” Gunwoo once again followed orders, feeling the sweet release of calm wave over him. They continued to eat in comfortable silence until Woojin smirked deviously.
“So,” he drawled mischievously, “what’s your type?” Gunwoo almost choked on his noodles.
“What?! I’m not telling you that!”
“Why? We tell each other everything!”
“Aniyo, not that. It’s weird.”
“Come on!”
“No!”
“Actually, the way your eyes wouldn’t leave that male nurse character on that doctor drama we watched earlier, I think I already know.”
“What?! They did not!”
“They did too. Your eyes were all like this” Woojin made finger hearts in front of his eyes and shimmied like an anime girl.
“You don’t even know what you’re talking about!” Gunwoo swatted at Woojin’s hands as he laughed full heartedly.
“Okay, correct me. What is your type?” Woojin smiled teasingly, but his eyes were oddly serious. He really wanted to know.
You. That thought popped into Gunwoo’s mind without any hesitation. But never out of his mouth. Ever. Instead, he came up with someone who was the opposite of the ideal man across from him.
“ Song Joongki in Vincenzo. He’s sophisticated, cultured, and he speaks multiple languages, which is really attractive.”
Woojin rolled his eyes and twisted his lips into a snarl. “When did you become such a snob?” He grumbled. Gunwoo studied Woojin’s face with an inquisitive look. What had he heard in his voice just now? Could it be… jealousy? Gunwoo couldn’t let himself ponder on that option for too long, for fear his heart would not recover.
“Since you’re such a snob, you can do the dishes to learn some humility.”
“Ne.” He said with an innocent smile, grabbing Woojin’s dishes to move to the sink.
“Yah, stop speaking formally to me, it’s creeping me out.” Gunwoo just nodded and happily did the dishes. As their time passed on and dusky night became pitch black, Gunwoo laid next to Woojin meditatively letting their conversation simmer in his brain. Gunwoo wanted to smack his own head for even letting the possibly of Woojin turning his back on him enter his mind. He was letting himself be lulled to sleep by the rhythmic notes made by the waves, because at 4:00 am they needed to get up for their daily run; despite the serenity he felt about he and Woojin’s relationship, they still had a score to settle with one Kim Myeong-gil.
“Gunwoo-ah.” Woojin’s gruff voice, thick with sleep, whispered. He turned over with his eyes still closed to face Gunwoo.
“Hmm?”
“If we knew each other in middle school, I’d knock out all your bullies’ teeth and bring them to you in a jar.”
He promised himself he wouldn’t cry one more time until after they’d caught Myeong-gil, but Woojin’s sincerity just wouldn’t let him keep that promise. Woojin laid a hand on his chest, conveying his thoughts perfectly with just that gesture. Gunwoo placed his hand tenderly onto his. “Gomawo hyung. Jinjja gomawo.” As Woojin effortlessly fell back into a deep rem cycle, Gunwoo stayed awake for a bit longer, taking in every detail of his face he can’t get away with gazing at during the day. Hong Woojin. His Woojin. His forever protector.